


Missing In Action (The Who You Are Underneath Remix)

by navaan



Category: Iron Man Noir, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Amnesia, Amnesiac Steve Rogers, Awkward Flirting, Bisexual Tony Stark, Captain America/Iron Man Fanfic Remix 2017, Getting Together, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Remix, Romance, Secret Identity, Sexual Content, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9672227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: Tony and his friends are on a mission in war torn Europe and Fury has sent along a soldier to serve as their driver and a sort of attache. Tony likes him well enough, but the real help he's counting on is that of Captain America, especially with Hydra hot on his trail. But then Private Steve Rogers has a mishap that costs him his memory – and Tony can't seem to make contact with Captain America at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sineala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineala/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451815) by [Sineala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineala/pseuds/Sineala). 



> Written as a remix of Sineala's story “Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred)” for **Captain America/Iron Man Fanfic Remix 2017**

“Alright, Pepper, tell me again what exactly happened to Private Rogers? Humor me, will you?”

She took a deep breath as she nodded and then opened her mouth and closed it again at a loss and visibly shaken. And that was what had his nerves on edge more than the fact that anything had gone wrong. They had both seen things over the years that would have driven other people out of their minds, but they'd always come through, always unraveled the mystery. They'd go about this the exact same way and come through. So he was going to keep calm and listen and not let it get to him.

There was no time for it.

Right now they were sitting in their little hotel room that was also doubling as their secret base of operations – at least as long as they were here. Which wasn't very long, obviously, now that _someone_ had gotten to one of their companions. They couldn't allow the opposite side to catch up with them or the whole mission was in dangers. Only General Nick Fury knew exactly why Tony Stark was here, and it wasn't only to help out their boys in their war effort and to help extract those who wanted no part in the German game of war or those who needed to escape before they could be eliminated.

He was on the hunt for secret Hydra bases across Europe, trying to make sure that when their own side managed to win the war, Hydra would also be a thing of the past once and for all. While the recent form of the organization had started out as part of the Nazi regime's SS ranks, it had quickly developed a life of its own, drawing people to it that had been part of other, older organizations. It looked like the leaders of Hydra had perhaps even done a better job at recruiting and influencing people than Hitler and his Nazi goons had managed to do. Hydra was its own power and Tony was beginning to think that it had roots that went back at least a century if not more. They were not only Hitler's secret task force working to give him new weapons. All along they had been a secret society that had worked towards its own goals, that may have secretly helped Hitler and his war along for their own gain – and they had to be stopped at all costs.

And something going wrong now was part of his personal worst case scenario.

That someone had gone after Private Rogers and not Pepper seemed lucky, but Tony couldn't say he felt any better about it.

It was Nick who had ordered Private Rogers to be their driver for the time being, although Tony supposed there was another reason why Rogers had to leave base for a while. Apparently the private was getting into trouble with the brass more often than not if the amount of potato peeling he'd been doing since Tony had visited camp for the first time was any indication. And he could see why. Steve had a sassy comeback for most everything and while that made him a man of Tony's own heart, it was not something that generally endeared you to superior officers inside any military organization. Apparently he was also seen as clumsy and lazy, if you went by his record. Tony had studied it before he'd grudgingly told Nick that he would rather take this one than any of the other “drivers” Nick might sent to keep an eye on him. At least Rogers had heart and the fact that he wasn't a “good” soldier worked in his favor, at least when it came to the kind of work Tony was doing.

Before the man had been assigned to him by Fury, Tony had caught Rogers lazing around camp that first week, most often scheming something with that army brat Barnes. It had been fun to watch. But on this trip the private had really not given him any cause for complaints. He was attentive and interested when Tony talked at him and he didn't ask questions when Tony gave him strange assignments that went a little beyond the driving, but lend a hand where he could. He was a quick thinker who could roll with the punches and everyone from Pepper to Jarvis liked working with him. Rogers seemed like a sensible man, someone who knew when to keep quiet and when to act - a resourceful guy that was an asset to the team.

Tony, who had known Fury for some time now, had the sneaking suspicion that Rogers had been sent along for more than driving and reporting back to the general. Out of all of them he seemed to be the only one who knew how to get in touch with the general and with Captain America instantly.

That he was easy on the eyes didn't hurt either, of course. Didn't hurt at all, in Tony's opinion.

He tried not to think too hard about that part at the moment and tried instead to focus back on the matter at hand. Pepper was sitting there, still pale, wearing the plain dress and jacket she had put on when she’d left the house hours before. Her hair was not her bright shade of orange-tinged red, but a darker, slightly murky, mousy brown, but it wasn’t that measure of disguise that made her seem like a frightened civilian right now. “Pepper? Really, what happened?”

He had never seen her act like a nervous bride before the wedding, but now her head shot up and she was biting her lip. “That's just the thing. I'm not quite sure _what_ happened. I don't even know why he followed me there. I should have gone alone, but he said he had to make contact with home base, so they would know everything was proceeding about the Reinstein mission... A man in the street had been watching me and I... I just felt it was better to shake off the tail and let Steve go upstairs in case another person had been put on the look out for any of your team. They would have known me and Steve is new enough that I thought he would be inconspicuous. He went to fetch the briefcase from the room we've rented in your name and when he came down... something was just wrong with him.”

“Wrong?”

“Well, he as disoriented. First thing he didn't even recognize me, Tony. He was walking down the stairs, no briefcase in hand and when I asked him why he hadn't brought it, he... I don't know. He tried to pretend he knew what was going on, like he didn't want me to see he was scared or confused, like he couldn't trust me and wasn't supposed to give anything away, but he was looking at me and suddenly it was clear he had no idea who I was. He has no idea who _he_ is, not even his name, Tony.”

He blinked and thought that over. “No idea whatsoever?”

She nodded. “It was eerie. When I said his name, he didn't even react, he just tried to move past me until I touched his arm. I must have looked worried or scared, because that was when he finally realized that I knew him. He tried to pretend then, but it... it was just eerie. What kind of thing does something like that?”

“Instant amnesia? No sign of anything being wrong before he went up?”

“No.” Pepper shook her head vigorously. “I told him to be careful and he made a joke about how this was his chance to end up as a side character in one of your adventures and how he could always call for back-up.” Rogers had made no big secret of how much he loved Marvels. He must have been an avid reader to remember some of the more obscure facts he'd mentioned to Tony in conversation, but he had in no way been shy around Tony or behaved like an adoring fan. It had just been another thing that made Rogers someone who Tony liked to have around.

“Then he went up the stairs. And then… I wasn’t there. He came back maybe a minute later, Tony. What the hell can wipe a man’s memory so completely in that amount of time?”

He had no answer for her.

So far he had no idea what this was, but he could already tell it was bad. Really, really bad. He could only imagine how scared Rogers must be, feeling like he'd lost his whole life in the blink of an eye. It was a dangerous thing; would have been a scary thing at the best of times, but it was certainly the last thing they needed while war was on and crazy secret society types were hunting for them, because even if at the moment they were on Swiss ground, and thus supposedly in the only neutral zone left to them, the truth was that neutrality inside a war like this was a fickle thing if it existed at all. There was no safety here. Someone had been prepared for Tony to step into that hotel room and instead had caught poor Private Rogers. Tony was feeling responsible. It wasn't just that whoever had set the trap had probably been waiting for Tony himself, it was also that he had allowed Rogers to come with them in the first place.

He had let the poor guy walk into a trap on his watch.

They could have lost him. And how would he have explained that to the general then? _I'm sorry, I lost your insolent private. Better luck next time?_ Nick was very protective of his own. One of the few things he and Fury had in common.

It was a blessing that Rogers had once again done whatever he pleased and gone with Pepper or otherwise it could have been her, left there all alone, and without an idea who to contact or where to go next. And he'd been lucky he hadn't sent Pepper away and gone alone, because then who would have found Rogers? Worse even - they would have gone searching for a missing Pepper, but not knowing what the guy had been up to they might have thought Rogers had made a run for it, because he was a spy or worse. They could have ruined his life and military career – not that there was much of one at the moment – because of a terrible misunderstanding, on top of what had happened to the poor fellow today.

Tony swallowed hard. It was a scary thought.

“How long was it? How long was he upstairs?”

“It really can't have been more than a minute,” Pepper said pursing her lips. “He walked up the stairs, was gone for a bit, I heard the door, I heard the door again shortly after and then he came down.”

“Nobody else was around?”

“No.” Pepper shook her head. “There was staff at the hotel, of course. But nobody stood out.”

“You never know who's a spy.” He nodded to himself, trying to get the facts to form a picture for him. “So, is he okay or do I have to tell Fury we completely broke the driver he said we should 'break in' after only one week? That must be a record even by our standards.”

“Jim is looking after him and Jarvis should be there soon. We can't well call in a doctor now. The only thing I can think of is getting him back to the plane and sending him back home. They have doctors there that can deal with strange things. Donald Blake should have seen his fair share of the weird on that expedition to northern Europe. He would know how to help. Or maybe Stephen Strange.”

“Pepper, we're in the middle of an operation. Hydra might be watching our every move. Scratch that, there are people watching our every move, no question about it. If they know we are trying to get a scientist out of Germany from here, who worked on their main base of operations, then the man is in terrible danger. There is no time to deviate from the plan. There is no turning back now. We have to get to Professor Reinstein before anyone else does.”

“But we can't drag an amnesiac soldier around the place, Tony! It’s a danger to all of us. What are we going to do? We knew they would be watching. And we must assume they are looking into this because it's you, not just because it's Reinstein. They are after you! They've always been after you! That _is_ why we set up some of these hotel rooms in your name. We wanted them too look, but at the wrong things. And now we do have their attention. But none of us could have foreseen this. What do we do, Tony?”

He nodded. “And now they probably did get to the wrong guy. The question is what do we do about it? About Rogers? We are responsible for him. He was with us only for these few days and we only saw him at camp before, but that doesn't change anything. He came here with us. He chose to come with us and he trusted us. You know how I feel about this. I'm sick of losing people who count on me.”

Just this morning Rogers had smiled at him confidently, nodded and said: “No problem, Mr. Stark. I'll be ready whenever you tell me to be. I trust you to know your stuff.” And now he wouldn't even remember that a moment like that had passed between them. 

Pepper put a hand on his arm. They both knew too well where his thoughts were going. Gialetta's betrayal had cost the life of one of his most loyal companions, who had been the author of all of his early Marvels adventures. Since then traveling with him hadn't become less dangerous of course, but he made damn well sure that he did what was in his power so everyone would get back home. He'd never been one to let other people walk into danger when he could be first in line for it, but he took the responsibility more seriously than ever now.

“Rogers was a bit of a Marvels fan, wasn't he?” Pepper asked, her face sad and her brow wrinkled in thought. 

“He is,” Tony agreed, his face determined now as he watched Pepper. Rogers had told Tony even that first day, that he was his greatest hero and that it was an honor for him not only to meet but work with him. From then Tony had expected things to become awkward like they usually did when a fan tried to get close, but Rogers had not behaved like an overbearing fan at all. It had made Tony wonder a little. The image of the lazy private reading Marvels and jumping at a chance to get an autograph was something he could wrap his mind around. But how did it fit with the intelligent and capable private Nick Fury had sent him? Nick had a type and more often than not he chose to surround himself with people with one of a kind abilities. “And his love for the pulps has nothing to do with anything. What counts is that he's here with us. If he doesn't know who he is, then he doesn't know friend from foe. We can't just leave him and we can't send him back without compromising the mission. From what I've seen he's smart. If there’s nothing wrong with him apart from amnesia we'll pull him through. Any word from our elusive mystery man in the flag suit? We could use the backup.”

“No sign of Captain America,” James Rhodes, who had suddenly appeared inside the door, said, looking solemn. “Last we saw of him was when he took down the army convoy near Besancon, Tony. I know you've put out the official call twice now, but don't count on him. He might already be somewhere else. Who knows what kind of missions he has been sent on?”

Tony tried not to bite his lip. There was something he hadn't told either Jim or Pepper yet about his work with Captain America. 

After they'd fought side by side both in New York stopping collaborators on the home front and here in Europe a couple of times, it hadn't just seemed like a good course of action. It had been much more than that. Tony had found a friend, someone who could hold his own and who was probably the one ally he would never have to worry about. If Tony Stark was the original adventurer, the kind of daredevil explorer that some people thought was a hero, then Captain America was putting him to shame. The man was the only true hero Tony had ever met. They'd spent two weeks trapped together behind enemy lines and then faced down a new Hydra cell together. Tony could say with some authority that he'd never seen anyone fight like Captain America and he'd never met anyone with more moral fiber. Tony never gave his trust easily, even though he often deliberately made it look like it.

Captain America had earned his trust at incredible speed and had not let him down so far. That was why Tony had specifically built a long range transmitter that was secure and small enough to be easily carried by either of them, so they could keep in contact even without anyone knowing. Captain America, Tony had discovered, was a bit of a wild card in this war, just like Tony. Both of them followed their own instincts more than the orders they received and both General Fury and General Phillips seemed to give them free rein, because they understood the value of operatives who made the hard choices in the field.

So, Tony had not just put out the call. He'd specifically tried to contact Cap three times in the last couple of days and not reached him. That wasn't unusual. There was a war on after all. Cap might be deep undercover. Tony tried not to think too much of it.

“Fury doesn’t tell us everything,” Pepper pointed out and made it sound like she agreed with Jim on that point. “Let's not count on Captain America just turning up out of the blue again.”

“And you know,” Jim added with a solemn expression, “the only one here who knew how to contact Cap at any time during the last fight was the person who doesn't even remember his own name now.”

Tony wanted to groan. That was exactly why he hated working with secret army branch operatives.

“That's what I was getting at,” Pepper said. “You should talk to him. If he was a bit of a fan, you might be our best bet to trigger his memory.”

He had wanted to see Rogers anyway. After all he had to make a decision and fast. And if he was honest with himself he also had a bit of a soft spot for the clever soldier boy. “Where is he?”

“Next door, with Jarvis,” Jim offered. “Not that there's much that either of us can do for him with what we know about field medicine.”

“Alright,” he said and got up. The niggling feeling that all of this was his fault still at the back of his mind, he pushed past James Rhodes and out into the sitting room. Pepper and Jim didn't follow him. Tony knew that they were going to use the time without him to make their own plans. Since Hydra had gotten close on their excursion to Sokovia, the two of them had made it their very own mission to protect Tony, whether he wanted their protection or not.

The door to the other room opened after a single knock and Jarvis broad-shouldered form appeared in the opening slid. “Can I come in?” Tony asked, feeling like a boy of 12 again.

Jarvis rolled his eyes and opened the door fully.

Steve Rogers was sitting at the edge of the bed, not wearing a shirt, but a cautious expression. Tony's eyes swept over his form, trying to make sure there wasn't anything physically wrong with him. And, darn, that boy was really doing his exercises, if those muscles were anything to go by. Tony had a hard time to look away from his pectoral muscles, back to his face.

But then their eyes met and Steve's blue eyes lit up like electric torches.

For a moment Tony, smiling suddenly in the light of that gaze, thought Pepper had been right. Whatever had shaken their sassy private, Tony wanted to believe that the memory of his adventure hero could be enough to pull him out of. But then the blue eyes raked over him and Rogers was licking dry lips in a gesture that Tony had seen before but not from this man. Then blue eyes finally met his and there was no real recognition, but something else – something that made his throat go dry and heat pool in his stomach.

When Rogers realized he was being watched in turn, his gaze dropped, his cheeks turned a little more pink and he looked away like he wanted to hide what he had done, what he had _desired_ there for one moment.

Tony could not remember ever having seen the man show any sort of insecurity around him and now that he was faced with the idea of it, he had himself no idea what to do with it. Not in light of the gaze that had gone before.

An attractive fella like Rogers with the kind of quick mouth and even quicker mind must know exactly what kind of effect he could have on people. 

It didn't add up.

It was clear he didn't know who Tony was, had just seen someone walk in who'd... appealed. And _Tony_ , a little unshaven, a little rugged from a night spent enhancing the newest version of the orichalcum spool that was powering his mechanical heart and making sure it would be compatible with the armor mark they'd brought, knew he wasn't at his best. 

He cleared his throat and Jarvis looked over, brow creased. Rogers didn't, only peered at him from narrowed lashes, still that gleam of interest in the gaze but subdued now, like he wanted to hide it. 

“How are you?” Tony addressed him and only nodded at Jarvis shortly, before turning his full attention to the soldier. 

The tinge of pink was back and the eyes widened a little. Apparently Rogers hadn't expected Tony to be here for him. “I... I think I feel fine.” He looked at Jarvis as if he was waiting for confirmation and then added: “It's frustrating not knowing anything.”

“I can imagine.” He raised an eyebrow at Jarvis.

“Physically he _is_ fine, as far as I can tell.”

Rogers shrugged.

“Are you sure, Steve?” he asked, deliberately using the man's first name. “No headache? No physical signs of some blow being struck.”

The man shrugged again, grimacing a bit, unsure. So Tony smiled at him, hoping to put him at ease.

Practically beaming back, Rogers finally shook his head. “I really feel fine.” He licked his lips again unconsciously.

The expression of unconscious interest - _want_ \- hit Tony like a crowbar to the head, but it wasn't pain he felt in answer. _God,_ he chided himself, _I've been alone for too long. I'm going weak in the knees from being smiled at by a pretty face._

It wasn't even that. He had known that Rogers was the kind of man that could get him there. Until now the man had just not shown any kind of indication that he would like to go there with Tony. Which wasn't all that surprising. There was a right time and place to look for the right signs - and to send them - to make sure you were letting down your hair in front of the right fellow and there was certainly a time and a place to seek the warmth of another soldier's bed. And _now_ was certainly not a good time to let his thoughts wander there. 

He needed to keep his focus. 

Priorities. He needed to keeps his priorities straight.

Getting Captain America on the line had jumped right back up to the top of that list.

“No memory at all?” Tony asked, directing his questions at both men in the room, because he wanted to get to the root of this as soon as possible. “Any indication at all of what happened?” 

“None,” Jarvis said, shortly, fixing Tony with a stare. “I'm not a doctor, Tony. As far as I can tell he's at the peak of human condition. I've never seen anyone this healthy. So if it weren't for his little memory problem, I'd say he's in much better condition than you are.”

Rogers looked from one man to the other, while Tony narrowed his eyes. Jarvis had spent the night with him while Tony had been busy putting the new power source into his heart, held his hand when he needed it, and told him he was an idiot pretty much every step of the way, mumbling things like: “You could be home. Give this up. This isn't your war. One day this thing will fail you and the best outcome is that you'll die _before_ Hydra gets to you.”

Jarvis had been more grumpy than usual, since Tony had managed to route the orichalcum energy into new weaponry for the Iron Man armor. Tony had plans for repulsor technology that went beyond weaponization, but, yes, at the moment he had priorities. 

“You do look like you've had a worse day than me,” Rogers offered and grinned at him lopsidedly. It was nice to see some of the sass return, even though Tony had hoped for something more flirty to come out of his mouth. _I don't look run down enough yet for you to not undress me with your eyes,_ he thought and tried not smile smugly at the thought, because honestly Rogers was acting different enough from his usual cheerier self that Tony felt bad about even going there.

“I usually do,” he answered and tried to keep his smile friendly, but neutral. “I'm really sorry, Steve, that you seem to have caught the worst of it this time.”

Rogers sat a little straighter and smiled. He seemed a little calmer, a little less self-conscious and insecure now. Tony could only wonder how disorienting it must be to come to in the middle of a strange environment you've never seen before and put your trust in people you knew nothing about.

“That's alright... I think.”

“It's really not, though,” Tony disagreed.

“No, it isn't,” Jarvis agreed and gave Tony a hard look that said: “Be responsible.” “We should get him admitted. He needs real doctors to take a look at him. Even at home the best I could do would be to read up on it. As far as I can tell this isn't a physical injury.”

“It's not like we didn't encounter strange things like this before.”

“You're not implying this is like that thing that happened in Latveria, Tony? Because I've had enough of mystical artifacts messing with my head.” He gave their confused private a pitying look, saw the man's worried frown and took pity. He clapped Rogers on the shoulder and nodded at Tony. “Catch him up. There's nothing more I can do for him right now.” 

Tony looked at Steve.

The man looked back at him nervously. “What was that thing that happened in Latveria?”

“I think Jarvis is right, it's time we got you caught up with what is going on here, Steve,” Tony said and tried to sound as calm and friendly as possible. Jarvis shrugged. “We are in a bit of a predicament here.”

Jarvis huffed. “I'll see if I can find anything helpful in my notes from Latveria.” It was his way of telling Tony that the explaining was up to him. He clapped Steve on the shoulder again with an encouraging nod and walked out without another word.

Which left Tony and Steve to stare at each other uncertainly. 

“Latveria?” Rogers prompted. He had gone a little pale.

“Yes, yes, Latveria. Nasty business. There's one... I suppose he would say he's now something of an arch-enemy - although that's something for Marvels more than the real world – and he collects the kind of things that I've spent most of my life looking for. Legendary artifacts, ancient knowledge, the truth behind historical mysteries.”

“That sounds...” It took him a moment to come up with a word for it. “Like your life is an adventure story. I mean, you certainly _look_ the part of an awesome adventure hero.”

And there was that blindingly brilliant smile again. 

The one that said: “Hey, fella, I'd really like to get to know you better.” 

It was good to see some confidence return. “Actually,” Tony said and grinned. “That's what I am. I'm Tony Stark, inventor, engineering genius, world famous adventurer and explorer and hero of my own magazine.”

“Like Argosy?” Blue eyes widened and under other circumstances Tony would have laughed.

“Marvels,” he said and Steve blinked. “Remember Marvels?”

“So you're like a real life Challenger or Doc Savage?” The idea seemed to excite him. Before the war Tony had gotten a lot of that.

“Well, emphasis on the _real life_.”

“Wow,” Steve said and he seemed to be busy wrapping his head around that. “You're not joking. It sounds incredible, but here I am sitting without any idea what happened before lunch today.”

“I'm really sorry about what happened, Steve. I promise I'll do whatever is in my power to find out exactly what happened.”

“Oh.” Steve cleared his throat and looked him over, this time like he couldn't believe his luck. “So? We're friends?”

It was a complicated question and Tony did not want to lie to the handsom soldier, but he liked him enough to know there was really only one answer: “You are among friends, Steve. We haven't known each other for that long, but, yes, I am your friend.”

Steve smiled tiredly. “Good, I feel like I could use a friend right now.”

“We all could,” Tony said thinking of Captain America. _Damn it, Cap, where are you, I could really use the help right now._

“There's a war on? Rhodes – he said... And we're in the middle of it somehow?”

“You don't remember, do you?”

“It's hard to explain. I look at things and I know what they are called, what they are for. I look at people and I have no idea who they are or how they connect to me. I look at my own hands and it's like I've never seen them before. I know Steve is my name, but I... don't really remember that. It's like I just sprang into existence today.”

“That sounds scary,” Tony said, “but it also sounds like a clean slate. There are days when I think I would be better off just... you know.”

Steve chuckled, a wry and harmonious sound. “I don't think I do, actually.” The laughter even reached his eyes and Tony wondered what it must be like to be free from all the doubts and secrets, all the baggage of memory. This morning's Steve Rogers would not have flirted with him, perhaps that was because he knew too much about who Tony was in this world, but now he looked at Tony like he was just another attractive man, approachable and interesting.

“I'm pretty sure I'm not an inventor. I didn't recognize half the technical equipment your friend used on me. So, we are adventurers? ”

“ _I_ am,” Tony corrected, “Jim is an expert on everything that has to do with nature and geology and he's learned a thing or two about flying. Pepper is my chronicler. You are a soldier. A private in the U.S. Army.”

The frown was back and Steve looked down at himself and than stared at his hands. “I'm a soldier?” Steve's face fell and the frown that marred his face now was less quizzical and confused and more... disjointed. “Really? I don't feel like a soldier.”

“That explains a lot,” Tony quipped and bit his tongue as soon as it was out.

“It does?”

“You are a bit too smart for a soldier,” he said and grinned.

Steve huffed. “So you're also really charming. Figures.”

“I'll tell you a lot of people would be glad to be here with the famous Tony Stark.”

And then Steve looked up to him through lidded eyes. “I'm not complaining, Mr. Stark.”

It sounded natural, just like all the other times the private had addressed him that way. “It's Tony. Just Tony.”

“Okay,” Steve said, “just Tony, tell me what's going on then.”

“We are on a covert mission in Switzerland. A German scientist who worked with our army has been taken by his former country men and because we've been dealing with the organization directly involved in this and know what we are getting into, we – Jim, Pepper and I – were sent to help him get back to the U.S. You were sent to come with us by General Nick Fury. You were to serve as out driver and a liaison.”

“Wouldn't they usually send an officer for a job like that? As a liaison, I mean.” His voice was low and calm, but his shoulders were tense as he mulled this over.

“From what I've seen you're one hell of a driver. And Nick... He doesn't send people he doesn't trust. You must have left an impression.”

Taking that in, Steve nodded. “I don't even remember him.”

“Well, he's not much to look at.”

Steve chuckled. “Then I clearly got the better deal.” His eyes were twinkling as he looked at Tony appreciatively again. 

“Thanks,” Tony said and his throat had gone a little dry. “You were always a little forward for a soldier of your rank, but you've never been forward in this way.”

Apparently, that hadn't even occurred to Steve yet. He blinked and suddenly looked away. His cheeks weren't burning from a blush, but Tony had the distinct impression he was embarrassed. “Sorry, I'm not sure what I was thinking.” 

“No, don't be sorry. I'm flattered.” He had never been one to turn down a flirt.

“Really?” Rogers looked at him like he had no idea what to do with that. Without his memory he was a strange mixture of forwardness and insecurity. It must be hard to deal with the gaps left by his lost memory.

“I make you a deal? I get you caught up on everything, I'll even hand you the record I have on Steve Rogers, private in the U.S. Army, and you can tell me exactly what happened to you.”

“I can sum that up in one sentence: The first thing I remember is standing in a hotel room alone.”

“No idea what happened before? A flash? A light? Something?”

“Nothing,” Steve said and shrugged. “Is there anything you can think of that will help me? It sounds like this is neither the right time nor the right place to be confused about the details.”

“No,” he admitted. “But I promise you, I will find out what happened and make sure to do whatever I can to make it right again.” He had sworn that to himself already.

Steve beamed at him. “Thank you.”

In Steve's situation Tony would probably have found it hard to trust anyone. And here Steve was already putting his trust in Tony again, after he had allowed all this to happen to him.

He would be damned if he'd let him down again.

Before he left Steve to go through the folder with his own name on it, he explained to him in detail what had brought them here and what they were planning to do in the next few days. The least he could do was give the man an option to decide what he wanted to do now.

But there was the lingering feeling that it would all be easier if Cap would just finally turn up, because then he could send Jim or Pepper to take Steve back to camp and doctors and relative safety. And although every fiber in his being was telling him that there was no need to worry about someone as inventive and smart and on top of his game as Captain America was, he also knew that nobody, however smart, however strong and however stubborn, was invincible. And if Hydra and other Nazi organizations had been hunting for Tony since before the war as a person of interest, as dangerous enemy and possible tool in their games, than Tony could only imagine how many special operations had been put on eliminating or capturing Captain America. 

The man wasn't just a soldier.

He was a symbol of hope in this war. 

And he had even managed to become one for a cynic like Tony.

He rummaged through his bag until he held the long-range transmitter. Using it too often was not a good idea, especially while he was stuck in the same place. With all eyes on him already he really didn't want to make Cap easier to trace too, but he had to try and reach him at least. From the little information he had the Captain knew Rogers, better than any of them did. He should at least be informed.

When he'd developed the device he had known that it wouldn't always be possible for them to react to an incoming call, so there was a limited recording functionality build in. Any new message would delete what had come before, so he waited for any sign that his alert was received from the other end. When nothing happened he tried again and then again.

Cap wasn't there.

Anyway, he had to try.

He raised the device to his mouth and pushed the activation button.

“Hey Cap, I'm not sure, if you just didn't get my earlier messages or if you're knee deep in trouble somewhere, but we've got a bit of a situation here. Rogers... You know the feisty private who gets in trouble a lot... You seem to know him better than me... At least, you talk about each other as if you're friends and he had an accident, if that's what you want to call it. I think he walked into a trap that was set for me and he doesn't remember a thing. Not a single thing. We need to get him out or we need to keep him safe somehow and at the moment I really don't know how. I know you're busy with your own chunk of this damn war, but I could really use your help, Cap.”

He waited for any sign that someone was there to receive the message, but once more the only answer was silence.

“I'd like to see you,” he whispered, thinking of a half-crooked smile under a blue face mask and twinkling blue eyes that only got brighter as they talked strategy, and sighed. “I hope you're alright.”

There was still no answer.

* * *

After what had happened they all knew they couldn't stay here. Even with safe houses and friends helping to hide them, the town was too visible and it was likely that Hydra already knew what they were after.

“It was all so much easier when I was going after mystical gems and long lost artifacts. At least the only life on the line was my own,” he muttered on his way out of his room to call the team together and plan their next steps.

“This really is you, isn't it?” He was surprised to see Rogers sitting at the table in the corner. He was holding up a worn out copy of _Marvels_. It was issue 19 and the cover had a lushly colored illustration of Tony in a white shirt, his sleeves pushed up, hanging from a rope together with a beautiful woman with long black hair, dangling from what he remembered was an airship, over a crowd of armed tribesmen with a volcano in the background. It was exactly the kind of bombastic moment that made a good pulp cover, but for some reason Tony had never particularly liked this one. Too many details of the story had been changed to make it more believable and to keep some of Tony's many secrets and that circumstance was reflected in the cover. 

He remembered taking a bullet for Gia that day, all while she had already been planning her betrayal.

Rogers was still looking at him with gleaming interest. His shining blue eyes reminded Tony of Cap and the fact that he still hadn't been able to reach him. 

“That's me, alright,” he said. “Famous adventurer and pulp novel hero.”

“Wow,” Rogers said and sounded impressed. “Found this among the things in my room.”

“Really? I hope you packed some of the better issues, too.” 

Steve shrugged. “It's an exciting story. Makes me wonder what's in store for me if I stay here.”

Pepper walked out of her room with Jim in tow. “I told you things have a way of getting interesting when Tony's involved.”

“You talked about me?”

Pepper shrugged and then winked at Steve. “Steve had a lot of questions.”

“Obviously.”

“About _you_.”

Flustered Steve looked away immediately. And Tony gave Pepper his best narrowed eyed look. “I hope you told him issue 19 isn't a good place to get into the _Tony Stark Adventures_.”

“Oh,” she said and drew the syllable out on purpose, “don't worry, Tony. I only told him the good things.”

Tony shrugged at Steve who still looked embarrassed. “That's what I'm afraid of. Pepper has her very own idea of what the good things about me are.”

“I don't know,” Steve said and his cheeks took on a very distinct shade of pink. “Sounded good to me.”

“Then I didn't do my job right,” Pepper said and chuckled. 

“Actually,” Jim reminded her, “your job is to make all of us look amazing.”

“I'm his chronicler, not his agent.” She smiled her sweetest smile at Tony and took a seat at the table with Steve and patted him on the back. Steve smiled at him, and there was that hint of shyness again.

Tony had no idea where it came from. Steve had never really been like that around him when he'd know who he was before, and Tony couldn't quite tell if it was just the memory loss that made him act differently.

“Issue 19 was a better read than my file,” Steve finally said and looked at Tony again. “I really have no idea why I was sent here with you.”

“You were doing okay, so far,” Pepper told him.

“You should not take to heart what some of the officers had to say about you,” Tony added. 

Jim looked amused and caught Steve's slightly distressed look. “The boss isn't the biggest fan of army types. I'm sure you'll figure that out soon.” 

“I don't know.” Steve looked a lot more uncertain now than he had before and Tony regretted having given him the file. He had hoped that some of the core dates of his life, the information about his family and upbringing, would trigger some memories. He had not wanted him to take to heart what his superior officers had to say about him. 

“Steve, listen to me! I know you don't remember Nick Fury, and believe me there are days when I wish I had never heard his name.”

“Which I think is mutual,” Pepper quipped.

Tony rolled his eyes. “And for good reason. But you can say whatever you want about the old warhorse, but he would never have picked you for this mission if he hadn't known you to be up for it. He always knows his people and he would have known better.”

“I don't remember him, but after reading this I feel it's entirely possible he wanted to get rid of me. Or you.” 

Tony stared.

Then Steve finally grinned a bit. At least he hadn't lost his humor along with the memories.

“He would have less elaborate ways of doing that than sending me an incapable drive. No, Steve, I don't think everything interesting there is to know about your service record made the way into that file and if that is the case that Nick Fury probably had something to do with it and there is a chance that your superior officers have no idea. There's something else that does not come up in that file and that is the fact that you know - well, used to know at least - how to contact the general and his Howling Commandos as well as Captain America in a heartbeat when we got into trouble right after leaving camp. You even saved us once when we were with the Howling Commandos in the north of France and you were stationed there. If you hadn't brought Cap there in time back then, that would have ended really badly.”

Startled, Steve chuckled. “Captain America? Is that another pulp novel hero come to life? What's he like? Like the Shadow?”

“He's the real deal. A real hero, not like me.”

“ _Not_ like you?”

"Don't believe the pulp stories. I'm not a hero. Captain America is." 

“He's quite something,” Pepper said. “He fights off whole units with nothing but a shield.”

“A shield?” Steve looked at them wide-eyed and surprised. “I seem to have forgotten some of the most incredible things. There are real life pulp adventures to be had and I don't remember. That's too bad.”

“I hope you manage to hold on to that sentiment. Jarvis has not yet found an explanation for what has happened to you and we can safely assume that Hydra is on to us.” He noticed a twitch in Steve's eyebrow at the mention of Hydra. “It's the organization I think is responsible for what happened to you. They've been gunning for me for a while and this s exactly the kind of thing I'd expect from them.”

Rhodes stepped forward to put a map on the desk. “We do have a couple of safe houses in the area we could move to, but we won't be able to shake them indefinitely. It will make it harder for us to get to Professor Reinstein without them getting us first.”

The front door opened and all of them looked up at the same time. Tony's hand had unconsciously wandered to his sleeve. He'd started to wear a repulsor bracelet around the palm of his hand that was powered by his orichalcum heart. The connections ran up his arm and for the first few days of wearing them they had been uncomfortable and itchy, but now he had become used to them. 

“Stand down,” Jarvis said and his voice was rough with amusement and something that looked awfully like pride, “it's only an old man.” He had always told Tony that since the kidnapping and torture that had caused his heart injury years ago, he'd become so reckless that the disregard for his own life had been the old man's main concern. But Tony had been dying - and risking his life for a chance to prolong it hadn't seemed like too big a risk. And now he had a life, a stabilized heart, and while he was still willing to take the risks, especially when other lives were at stake he was responsible for, he had a future to look forward to that before that had simply not been likely. He _wanted_ that future and he wanted a chance at building it and he would be damned if he let Hydra get one over him and take it away. 

Jarvis sat down the supplies he had brought and then looked at their gathered company. “Good,” everyone is here. “He picked up a telegram like card. We've had a message at the butcher's shop.”

The local butcher was their current contact person and he kept them up to date on the latest developments and the information of agent movements in the area. It was unusual that an actual message was relayed through him though.

“Captain America?” Tony asked and hoped it could be true.

“Intel,” Jarvis said and shrugged. “Perhaps Fury has already noticed he can't reach our driver or this comes directly from one of the resistance cells or agents behind the border.”

“The codes were up to date?”

“We checked twice.” Jarvis nodded to himself. “They are moving the professor to Paris. If we want to intercept them before we would have to go today and it's most likely a another trap.”

By now the tension in the room was so tangible that you could have cut it with a knife. 

“They are moving him because of us,” Pepper said and she bit her lip, obviously worried. “What do we do now?”

“We do what they don't expect us to do.” A plan was already forming in his mind and he looked at each at them in turn, thinking it through, finally resting his gaze on Steve. “I think I know what to do and none of you will like it.”

* * *

The plan was simple enough and, of course, nobody was really happy with the idea of splitting up, but all of them had been together for so ling that they had learned to read situations like these.

This was how he ended up driving with Steve Rogers towards the location of another safe house, this one close to the hotel where they'd rented their rooms for show. 

“At least I _do_ get to drive,” Steve said conversationally, while Tony made a show of checking a map, in case they were being followed. 

“If this works, you'll get to do a lot of driving in the next few days.”

“Glad to be of service, Mr. Stark.” He laughed and some of the clouds brought on by the details in his service record had lifted somewhat, although naturally his missing memories still troubled him. “Thank you for doing this.”

“There is still no need to thank me. After all it was me who got you involved in all this.”

“Actually, you are all telling me that I was ordered to come with you.”

“Which makes me the man in charge.”

“Which is a relief,” Steve said and tried to smile again, “because without you I wouldn't even know where I am.”

Without needing any instruction Steve found a good place for them to leave the car for now and they walked the rest of the way to their temporary apartment. Tony found it remarkable, the way Steve had forgotten everything that related to his own person, while at the same time he seemed to retain a working knowledge of the world. Although his conscious mind had forgotten, his subconscious seemed to still know what kind of job he was here to do.

They had barely set down their luggage, when Tony, grabbing a gun and ammunition from his own bags, turned to Steve and nodded. “Better get ready. We are only stopping temporarily to find out what we can and to give the others time to get to Paris.”

“Bypassing the trap and waiting for them in Paris instead of following is a good plan,” Steve said. “Are you sure, you shouldn't be with them?”

“In this case I'm just a liability. The aim is to get the professor out and if I can serve this purpose by keeping the local Hydra agents interested in me, then that is what I'll do.”

“But that's not all. You are planning to go back to the hotel.”

“Don't you want to know what did this to you?”

“Of course,” Steve said. “I'm just not sure my memories are more important than the work you do.”

“Don't worry about that. It all lines up perfectly right now.” He smiled. “When I'm gone, get everything ready. Move the car.” He reached into his coat pocket. “This is the address of the safe house a good way outside the city. Make sure you aren't followed. I'm sure some part of you remembers how to do that.”

“I wish I had your faith in my abilities, Tony.”

“If I find out how they took you memories, then perhaps you will have your faith back sooner, than you think.” 

“How will you get there?”

“Don't worry about me, Steve. Keep yourself safe. That is all I ask of you for now. Believe me, these people don't know mercy. You don't want to tangle with them as long as you're at a disadvantage. Leave this to me.”

He picked up a coat that fit him and changed his hat, before he let himself out and walked back down the stairs.

There was no reason to believe that Steve was of any interest to Hydra. When all eyes were on Tony he would have an easier time to get out of the town. And before they made their break into France, they _had_ to stop by that safe house. A very important crate was stored there and Tony would not venture into enemy territory without at least one of the armors at his disposal.

It was a long walk to the hotel and he did not walk there in a straight line to make sure nobody would be able to connect him to the apartment he'd just left. With the late afternoon sun he enjoyed the stroll on the cobbled streets and through picturesque lanes, just as he would have before the war. Despite this, he kept an eye out for any suspicious movements around him and he made sure to spend a little more time at the little church close to the hotel, as if he was a tourist admiring the sights. Then he slowly walked to the hotel, but took another corner shortly before he got close to the building, simply as a precaution.

Finally he arrived at the hotel's side entrance without having ever stepped out on the main street that crossed right in front of it. 

Quietly, listening for any voices, he let himself into the dark hallway. 

Most people stopping here were business men or men on one political mission or another. While their room keys were supposed to be at the front desk, Tony had a replica of the one he'd received two days ago in his coat pocket. Nobody came across him in the hallway and it was easy enough to let himself into the room without anyone the wiser.

At first glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary. But Tony had been very careful about placing everything he'd left behind and he could see at a glance that some of the equipment he' left had been taken, the suitcase was gone and replace with one similar in size and shape and the briefcase Pepper had come this morning to fetch was nowhere in sight. 

But there Tony didn't have to look far as he carefully edged along the walls and took in all the small changes. There on the windowsill, close to the desk where he'd left the suitcase with the communication equipment was a small, silver-grey device he'd never seen before, only partly concealed by the curtain. He stepped to the table, keeping it between himself and the device. It was a round sphere propped up on a small pod and while it was small enough not to be noticed a little red light blinked steadily. Tony had a feeling that meant it was still active.

And it was placed in a way that anyone who reached for the briefcase would have come directly in range of the light. 

He leaned closer and then, just looking at it from the corner of his eyes, saw the little note attached to it. “For Tony Stark,” it read and he recognized Gia's handwriting.

The anger he felt suddenly was blinding.

Gia had set this trap for him. Perhaps she needed to prove herself to the person who had taken up after Baron von Strucker had been taken care of. Perhaps she was still seeking revenge for her ruined face, even though she'd brought that on herself. 

“Very funny, Gia,” he muttered and crouched down to – from a safe distance – look at the wiring of the device and find a way to dismantle it carefully and without triggering it. The last thing they needed was two amnesiacs left behind to be an easy target for Hydra.

He found the wiring hidden behind the curtain and was surprised that it had been set up with its own battery back. This way they could have kept it going for a long time and gotten to him whenever he returned. Smart. They knew he often didn't return to hotel rooms for days when he was on an expedition or mission.

Perhaps this wasn't directly connected to what they were doing and more a regular attempt to get him. With Hydra this was a distinct possibility.

He stretched out under the table like a child playing hide and seek to get closer to the wire and then took the Swiss _Offiziersmesser_ he kept in his pant pocket at all times to cut the power line. He waited for anything to happen and then crawled backwards out from under the table, inspecting the device from where he was sitting on his haunches and still from a safe distance, half hidden behind the table. The red light had stopped blinking and there were no suspicious sounds. Things should be safe enough now. At home in New York he had the prototype of a scanner that could have helped him now, but here he had nothing but his instincts. Carefully he took a paper from the table balled it up and threw it towards the sphere. Nothing happened.

It seemed he had successfully disabled the thing for now.

And he really did not want to waste time. He knew every minute he was here made him an easier target. Unceremoniously he stuffed the bits and pieces of the device into a leather bag he'd brought in hope of finding something.

At least this was something he could work with; something to reverse engineer and analyze. He had a good chance now of helping Steve recover his memories. At least he hoped that whatever they had attempted with this hadn't done irreversible damage. 

A noise from the door caught his attention and he froze, listened and waited. Although he couldn't hear anything and it wasn't unlikely that his nerves were so on edge that he was hearing things. But being paranoid had saved his life more than once, so his first step was to carefully push away the curtain and look to the street. A black car that hadn't been there when he'd snuck to the side entrance, was parked there now at the back of the hotel, close enough to the small alley that led to the kitchen and side entrances. Someone was sitting in the car and smoking. It might be someone's driver, or simply a husband waiting for a wife, but Tony had never really believed in coincidence. He was pretty sure that a car would be waiting for him on the other side of the same alley, too. He huffed. 

Just like Hydra to be so sure of themselves that they were being obvious. Perhaps with the device they thought there was no further need for caution.

Although he was pretty sure nobody had followed him from the safe house, he was now convinced that someone had been lying in wait for him right here. It didn't come as a surprise. After all, he would have opted never to come here again, if it hadn't been for Steve and his predicament.

Quietly he walked to the door and listened. There was no sign of anyone waiting for him on the other side, but after making his deductions about the car waiting outside, he could expect whoever was sneaking around outside was simply trying not to spook him. For a moment he considered taking his chances with whoever was waiting there, then he looked back towards the curtains. When he looked down he focused on the driver this time, who was sitting with his back towards him, car parked so it was facing the alley. Cigarette smoke was blowing from the car's open window occasionally. He leaned forward a little more to see if there was a ledge he could crawl along to the next room, but his best chance would be to step out on the small balcony and heave himself up to the next floor's. It was unlikely that the driver downstairs wouldn't notice acrobatics of that kind. Still, he considered it for a second or two, because an escape over the roof would be a quick solution to an annoying and inconvenient problem. He did not like wasting time.

But no, he would be an easy target dangling from a balcony and if the man down there was a Nazi spy or collaborator, Tony should have no illusions about him not being armed. And while he hoped they weren't here to kill him, they would probably have no qualms about causing serious injury to keep him from escaping.

He would have to take his chances with whoever was in front of the door, and he did have an idea how to turn the tables on them. 

Determined to give them a good show, before making a run for it, he set down the leather bag and went through his coat pockets, made sure there was nothing there for anyone to find and then shrugged it off, threw it carelessly over a chair and checked his sleeves. The wires of the repulsor bracelet were still well concealed, so he went about actually wrapping the skeleton like gauntlet parts around his palm and fingers to make sure it was secure. The small sphere that made up the main part of the repulsor fit into his palm perfectly and Tony was proud of the intricate micro-circuitry he'd built for it.

Whoever was out there, would not expect him to have this kind of tech without the armor. 

“You could be the best engineer on the east coast and instead you still make us all crawl through the mud and play archaeologist,” Jarvis had grumbled when he'd demonstrated it to him in their Stark Industries facility in New Jersey.

“We were never playing,” he'd answered simply. “And I _am_ the best engineer on both the west and east coast and not least of all because you taught me how to turn my ideas into useful tools.”

He made sure that his sleeves were mostly covering the device as he grabbed the bag and, straightening himself, got closer to the door. With the way he usually held himself most people thought him too self-absorbed to be a good actor, but he'd gone through life for a long time keeping his secrets and he could bluff like the best off them. He would be fine. He really didn't need to do much more than buy himself a few minutes and a moment of surprise. 

Of course, he knew, that he was putting everything on one card here. Hydra had tried to capture him alive for months, because they had plans for him he'd rather not even think about. He hoped that orders hadn't changed in the mean time, because if they had, he might be looking at a bullet to the skull in the next few minutes.

After gathering his wits and hunching his shoulders a bit, he pushed the door open hesitantly, slipped out when no immediate threat met him there, but he was instantly aware that he wasn't alone in the hallway this time. Keeping in character, he tried to move the way Pepper had told him Steve had come towards her when he'd appeared again on the stars without memory, obviously unsettled, but trying to hide anything was wrong. With one hand on the wall he half stumbled towards the stairs and acted like a man who wanted to hide he was in trouble. Admittedly, he had some experience in that regard. Something all his friends could attest to. 

His acting was rewarded when the man who had been waiting and watching him from a few feet away, having only half hidden himself in the dimly lit halway, walked forward briskly. “Mr. Stark,there you are. Your car is ready.”

He pretended to falter, looked surprised and then masked it again. “Is it...?”

“Yes, like you ordered, sir.”

“I ordered a car?”

The man with his broad shoulders looked nonthreatening enough, although Tony could assess that he'd been picked for muscle. Knowing that looks could be deceiving, Tony mentally went through a checklist of where he could have hidden weapons in his driver's uniform.

“You wife is waiting,” the “driver” said and, taking Tony by the elbow steered him towards the stairs.

He could see more of them lingering on the staircase a floor down. “Are you ready darling?” someone called up and the voice, familiar and too sweet, made his hairs stand on edge. Of course, Gia was here. She wanted the pleasure of being the one who beat him.

“My... wife...” Tony said slowly as if he had to think that over as the man who had been left in the hallway pulled him forward slightly. He had waited for that moment, when the other hovered with one foot over the first step down and with a violent movement pulled himself free. The man was unbalanced, but – realizing suddenly that Tony had been playing – tried to make a grab for him. Tony grinned, knew that the people at the bottom of the stairs had not yet realized what was going on and used the moment to fire a repulsor shot at the stairs beneath his would be captor's feet. The wood gave way, the man plummeted, crying out a warning. “He's getting away!”

And as all hell broke lose, Tony sprinted up the stairs, making his way towards the roof now anyway. He had at least three escape routes in mind and would make the rest up as he went along. He reached the upper stair case, a barrage of noisy feet in pursuit and reached the window he'd been thinking off first at a run. With enough speed it should be enough to propel him forward fast enough to reach the terrace on the neighboring building – another, smaller inn.

Just as he jumped, shooting the glass with the repulsor gauntlet to make sure the glass gave, shots rang out and he felt a searing pain in his left shoulder. But he had no time to cry out, felt glass graze his cheeks and the terrace came flying towards him. He barely managed to catch himself on the balustrade and with a final effort pulled himself onto firm footing.

But there was no time to lose. He could hear Gialetta cry for them to stop him and his as his pursuers reached the window, another short rang out, aimed at his leg, missing by inches. Calculating his next step as his already banged up shoulder throbbed, he jumped over the balustrade again, pushing himself up and over with his right arm, sliding along the roof at too much speed, he knew he had probably only one chance at this if he wanted to escape. He was on the clear side of the little hotel now, another alley, no cars waiting for him here, but he was falling three stories deep. Bringing himself around in mid air he used two controlled repulsor blasts to slow his fall enough to catch himself on a windowsill that was a safer distance down. 

This time he did cry out, when his shoulder was jarred and only now did he see the blood welling from the wound and already staining the front of his shirt red. The shot had gone through at least. But he was bleeding and the pain and blood loss would slow him down.

The weight of the leather bag was pulling at his shoulder painfully and he let go, barely catching himself on his feet as he landed in a crouch on the uneven pavement. He had no time to think about blood or pain or dizziness. He set off at a run. 

The sound of a car coming down the main street let him stop in his tracks. Had they already followed? 

No, he'd seen this car before, just an hour or so before.

“Get in,” Steve shouted as he pushed open the door even before the car came to a halt, and Tony didn't need to be told this twice to follow his order.

He barely had time to pull the door shut behind him, before Steve set off at a blinding speed. 

“I...” Steve said and kept his eyes on the road. “Don't be mad.”

“Do I look like I'm complaining right now?” 

Steve turned his head a little, still speeding through narrow streets. His eyes widened, but instead of panicking he just went pale and turned his eyes back to the street. “You got shot?”

“Evidently.”

“How bad?”

He was already feeling dizzy. “I'm bleeding through the car seat, but it's not as bad as it could be,” he mumbled. “There were at least two cars.”

“Don't worry,” Steve said and looked at him with one quick but still worried half-grin. “They are at least two drivers short right now.”

That didn't make much sense. “Did you...? You did...”

“I'm sorry, I know I should have listened and stayed away.” He gave Tony a significant look. “It didn't feel right. Letting you go alone. Sitting back and waiting. Now I can't say I'm sorry.”

“Steve?” he asked. “I'm getting dizzy.”

“We need to get that wound seen to.”

“Yes. Where are we going? This is not the way to the safe house.”

“You gave me too much time to think. I planned ahead,” Steve said. “You just work on staying awake.”

* * *

They ditched the car in a barn outside the town and transferred to another one.

“The butcher?” Tony asked.

“It was the only contact I knew about,” Steve said. He'd given his own coat to Tony, who was by now hunched over in his seat and trying to keep his fingers from shaking.

Despite them being sure now they had managed to lose anyone who might be after them, Steve drove the long way around. “You sure you don't need a doctor.”

“I'm shaky,” Tony admitted. They had found some cloth to press against both side of the wound, but it would need better dressing. “And it hurts like hell. But it went clean through. Worse things have happened to me.”

Steve looked distressed at the mere thought. “I'm glad now I didn't listen to you.”

“It's one of your most endearing features.”

Not able to look away from the street as it became a little rocky he threw a sideways glance at him. “It is?”

Tony hissed in pain. “Never liked people who can't think for themselves.”

“Not sure I was thinking, to be honest,” Steve mumbled and he looked like he believed it. “Not when I made the decision.”

“You arranged to get me and ditch the car, sweetheart. You weren't just thinking, you were strategizing. That's exactly the kind of man I would want on an adventure with me. Cap would be so proud of you.”

“Cap?”

“Captain America.”

“Ah,” Steve said. “Him.” His tone was neutral and tight, but Tony was too tired and dizzy to even try and find out what was wrong. Steve had a lot on his plate. The world must be a very confusing place for him right now. 

“That was a really brave thing you did. Coming after me when you didn't even know for sure what would be waiting there for you. You don't... It must be confusing enough not knowing the things you should know.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “But you're like my beacon. You're the only one I know anything about right now.”

“That's...” Sweet wasn't really the word he was looking for. “A little disturbing, but sweet. Just don't make a habit of following me into trouble. I take my chances, but I don't like getting others hurt, because I was acting rashly.”

The car stopped and Tony was lurched forward, wincing when the wound was jarred. 

“Sorry,” Steve said and got out of the car, looking flustered and worried all at once. Tony dragged himself from the car, before the man had managed to reach his door. 

“Not the first time something like this happens to me, Steve,” Tony said. “Help me get this cleaned up and we'll be fine I promise.”

There was nobody around to see them. Their little safe house was little more than a hut hidden in the woods and Tony had been here before. They walked into the small living room era and Tony let himself fall onto a narrow armchair as soon as he saw it. With his good arm he relieved himself from the leather bag. "The good news is, that I have the device that did this to you. I got it along with a confirmation that it was meant for me."

Steve hadn't so much as looked around yet, as he started to search the kitchen. Tony realized as he saw him put a huge pan on the hearth that he was preparing hot water to clean his wound. Their suitcases and crates had been put up in a neatly organized pile. So Steve had even had time to get everything from the car before going back to town. He must have gotten restless waiting here on his own.

“You know what to do,” Tony pointed out.

Steve blinked at him. "I think I do. I... can't really explain it, but some things I just know."

“Hmm, funny. I think I'll have to get into taking that device apart and find out what exactly it was they did.” The room swam in front of his eyes, as the adrenaline of the chase finally 

“Do you think it may just be wearing off?”

“Do you?"

Steve shook his head. “And we should take care of you first.”

"It's fine."

Blue eyes flashed with incredulity and something very close to distress. "It's not fine. You only went back there because you wanted to make sure I can get my memories back."

"I'm also curious. Part of my charm."

Suddenly Steve deflated and looked away, busied himself again with the water, prepared clean towels and unpacked bandages. His hands flew as he organized everything. "I'm pretty sure Captain America would not have let you go in there alone."

"Cap has bigger fish to fry." At least he hoped that was why he wasn't responding to his calls. He let his head fall back and took a deep breath to steady himself. He should be more worried. He'd been shot, Gia was here and Hydra had been confident enough to set a trap for him in the light of day. But he couldn't even bring up the energy. After all, Gia had played right into his hands. That she and her men had been there waiting for him meant their eyes were still on him and not on his friends who had ventured into France.

"I wish I could be more like him," Steve said timidly and that attitude didn't sit well with Tony at all. But when Steve set down a bowl with hot water on a small side table he sat up straighter and tried to focus. 

“We all do, Steve,” he said instead of disagreeing and tried to just clear his head. "But I wish I had never shown you what your idiotic superior officers had to say about you." He watched as Steve carefully ripped his shirt around the wound. "You do know what you're doing. Tell me," he urged and as much to distract himself from the pain as to satisfy his curiosity, “how did you go about taking down the drivers?”

“I...” Steve hesitated. “I'm not sure taking out is the right expression.”

“What did you do?” 

Steve shoved a clean towel into the water, wrung most of the water from it and started slowly dabbing at the blood. Tony hissed, when he got close to the open flesh. 

“I had a feeling that they were waiting for you. So I stepped up and asked for a light. He obviously didn't want me there, but he also didn't want to attract attention. I crashed him headfirst into the steering wheel when he reached out offer me the lighter.”

“Didn't know you smoked,” Tony hissed, breathing hard while Steve was carefully working at cleaning his gunshot wound. 

“I don't.”

Tony laughed. His amusement mingled with the pain to form an ugly sound, but he really felt like laughing. 

Finally Steve took a bottle of some clear and vile smelling alcohol he'd found in one of the cupboards. It smelled like cheep and sweet brandy, the kind that people made themselves. He was only half glad when Steve didn't offer the stuff to him for a swig, after pouring some on his back and front and then cleaning it all up again, but put it on the floor and out of reach. 

Tony bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“I hope that helps keeping away an infection.”

“No time for that,” Tony agreed.

“It would be easier if you take off your shirt. It's ruined anyway and I can dress the wound better...”

He blamed feeling self-conscious on having had a brush with his former lover turned betrayer, but he shook his head immediately. The mechanical heart was still one of his best kept secrets, but Gialetta knew about it. It never went over well with new lovers, but she had never made a big deal of it. These days he had to ask himself if that had all been an act to get even closer to him, to make him feel good about her and safe. “You're my knight in shining armor,” he said softly, trying to talk through the pain, as Steve pressed a pad on the wound and tied a bandage firmly around it. “But whatever it says in the papers, it takes a little more to get me naked. And we have work to do.”

“Shame,” Steve muttered, but his face was all concentration and seriousness. Tony let his head fall back and roll to the side so he could watch him from up close. He'd become fond of this private who seemed to have a bit of a dislike for authority, but maybe he liked this Steve even better: The one who acted on instinct and got himself mixed up in dangerous situations instead of calling for back-up. Acting like he had today without any memory of your former life took courage.

He liked courageous people. Those with a slightly reckless streak.

He realized, even as the pain got too much and Steve looked at him apologetically, that he wasn't holding back because he didn't trust this man. He was holding back because Steve had never flirted with him before. Steve had no way of knowing what he wanted right now and sleeping around with men had never been the approved thing in middle-class society, but it had become a dangerous thing since the war. If Steve still wanted to flirt – and maybe more - _after_ he remembered who he was and what the world was like, then perhaps Tony would stop thinking about perfect muscles stretching a red white and mainly blue uniform and think about this here right in front of him.

As it was, they both had enough to worry about.

* * *

He took something for the pain when it got worse. He rarely needed it. He'd been running around with a shot ticker for years and the maintenance of the mechanical heart, especially the charging involved, had taught him over time that pain was nothing to be feared. It was something he could live through.

Still, Jarvis always packed him whatever he needed when they were on missions and tonight he just wanted to work through the pain and get to the next step of this game as long as he had an advantage.

Rogers was now sleeping on the sofa after they'd had a short argument about who was to sleep in the bed. At the time a headache had kept Tony from fighting back too stubbornly, but now that he had rested a while he walked up and down the length of the room, unable to sleep with all these thoughts racing through his head. He had already made up his mind about their next moves. He was only waiting for Pepper or Jim to send a message via the long range transmitter and then he and Steve would move locations. But so far there had been no message.

It reminded him of Cap and the fact that there had been no sign of life from the man in more than a week now.

Initially he had been pacing to clear his mind, in hopes of getting started on dismantling the apparatus built by Hydra that had affected Steve's memory so badly, but first he would ease his mind and try to reach out to Cap again. Perhaps he would finally answer his call.

He put the bag with the device he'd brought with him from his ill fated adventure on the kitchen table and then took the long range transmitter from another of his bags. While he did so, he studied the neat pile of baggage Steve had compiled. Most of it belonged to Tony and his crew, but there were a few bags and crates that Tony had never seen before. One in particular caught his eye. It was a sturdy metal case and painted in the same dirty army green that he hoped he would one day have seen enough of. There was a number printed on it and Tony realized immediately that it was the serial number on Steve's identification tag. It had been locked with a heavy looking padlock. 

Not sure what could be in a flat square case like that Tony pondered it for a moment and decided to ask about it later.

Now he took the transmitter outside.

The night air was brisk. Autumn was slowly giving way to the cold of winter and here in the woods it was even cooler. Right now, feeling clear minded and calm after the pain had lessened a bit, Tony didn't mind so much. Deciding on what to say and what to ask if Cap actually answered, he paced again, walking in long strides up and down the side of the car. It helped him get his thoughts in order.

Finally, he stopped and leaned against the car, feeling he could talk now without giving away he was wounded or worried. “Cap, come in?”

“I don't even know how many messages I've left you since I heard from you last. I don't want you to think I'm mooning over you.”

Perhaps he was a little, but that was neither here nor there.

“We're still in a bit of a pinch and I'd appreciate some backup. Not sure you heard my last message about what happened to your friend Rogers, and I may be able to make progress there, but the rest of the team are in France now alone and...”

He stumbled over the words.

“If you can get there, help them. And let me know you're alright, okay? I don't even remember my mother, but I'm sure I'm beginning to sound just like she would if she knew what I get up to everyday.”

He stopped the transmission and sighed. Taking a swig of that fruit brandy inside was beginning to sound more and more tempting.

But, no, he had a better remedy for idle thoughts. There was work to do and solving problems was always the best way to take his mind off things. For years it had kept him from pondering his own failing heart successfully. 

He pushed away from the car and turned towards the house and froze, startled, when he realized someone was there. His heart pounded loud enough to drown out all thought, before he realized it was Steve, leaning inside the door frame and watching him. “You left the door open,” Steve said, smiling wryly. “Something woke me and when I looked up the door was open and you were gone.”

“Sorry,” he said. 

“You spoke to the captain?”

“Didn't reach him. How much did you catch of that?”

“Most of it,” Steve admitted and nodded towards the inside. Tony went to him, let himself be ushered inside and watched as Steve closed the door behind them. He had not realized the private was such a mother hen, but then, this Steve had only really known him for a day and look what had happened. Like he'd said, Tony was his only real connection to his life before, so it was only natural he would be feeling a little protective.

“I didn't know you could contact him. You made it sound before like contact only happened through other people. Like me.”

“I gave him a transmitter. Like the one I gave Pepper. It's good to have each other's backs sometimes. Especially in a war like this. We have common enemies.”

“Like the whole of the German army, I gather?” Steve nodded and walked over to the table where Tony had propped up the bag. He studied it, like there was something he wanted to ask about it. Then he asked instead: “You said I was his friend? How well do we know each other? He and I?”

“You would have to ask him,” Tony admitted. “But you obviously worked together occasionally.”

“He's really important to you.” Steve said it with some finality, as if he had just come to a conclusion. “Do you think he could tell me what my life was like?”

Tony shrugged. “Perhaps he doesn't need to.”

He had walked past Steve to the table and started unpacking the bits of pieces of the machine that had done this. Careful to give the injured shoulder some rest he only used the right arm. Steve made a step closer, unsure whether he should help or not. 

“What's that by the way?” Tony nodded towards the narrow, square shaped crate. 

From the way Steve blinked and did a double take, as he looked over his shoulder, Tony immediately knew the poor guy had no idea. Another thing lost in the void of taken memories. 

“The square box with your serial number on it.” He pointed.

“It's mine?” Steve asked. “It was in the car. I just put it with the other things.”

“Think you have a key to the padlock?”

“I hope so,” he mumbled. “I should look.”

“I'll look at this. Perhaps you'll soon know everything there is to know about you.”

Of course, that was when the long-range transmitter beeped. Scratchy static sounded as Tony picked it up and took the incoming message right away. Jim's voice sounded like from a distance: “Tony?”

“Yes?”

“We're in Paris.”

“No trouble?”

“No more than expected. But new Intel and new trouble. Reinstein wasn't moved here at all.”

Steve and Tony looked at each other over the table.

“They are going to take him to Germany, probably in the next days.”

There.

Had he really thought he could sit the rest of the adventure out without getting involved?

“We're not really going?” asked Steve. “You're hurt and I'm not going to be of much use.”

“Oh,” said Tony in a sing-song voice, “ye of little faith. Don't tell me, amnesia or no, that you'd pass on the chance of going on a real Tony Stark adventure.”

After all, he'd seen the pile of Marvels issues the soldier carried around.

Steve slowly smiled. “Gosh, really? I suppose you're right, Mr. Stark.”

“Good to hear,” he said, “because then there is something I need to show you, before we pack up again.”

“Okay,” Steve said and his voice was thick with excitement. 

Tony picked up Steve's coat that still had his blood on it, slipped the good arm in and only pulled it over his right side. He was glad that Jarvis wasn't here to tell him to take it slow. They did not have to walk too far, but stumbling through the underbrush in the dark still took some time.

“What are we looking for.”

“How many Marvels issues did you have in your luggage, Steve?” He grinned, although he wasn't sure Steve could see it in the dark. And as he pushed a button on his transmitter device the ground started to shake beneath their feet and there was the sound of bursting wood planks. Steve looked at him in panic and the next moment leaves and earth were trickling to the ground and, not gleaming as much as it normally would, his Iron Man armor stood before them.

“Wow,” he said.

“Private Rogers,” Tony said and gestured to the armor. “Meet Iron Man. Our ticket to France.”

* * *

Their network of spies and new from some German collaborators set them on the right track before they ever had to move. Apparently Gialetta Nefaria had pulled her own group of agents out of Switzerland for now, or at least that was what she wanted Tony to believe. She must know that he'd been injured and it wasn't unlikely that she wanted him to feel safe, so he'd make mistakes.

Instead he was crossing the border with Iron Man, Steve safely strapped to his side and the necessary equipment strapped to his back.

It had been Tony who'd insisted on packing light and indeed also Tony who in the end had decided to take the square mystery crate with them, after Steve hadn't been able to find the key for the padlock among his things. They would go through all of Steve's things again as soon as they were somewhere safe. Any hints to his past might become precious if Tony failed to make progress with the Hydra device.

And the more he looked at the square metal box, the more he wanted it to be a secret communications grid – a way to contact Cap, wherever he was and whatever he was doing – because his sleep had been plagued by images of his broken body covered in blood and mud and grime.

Tony himself hadn't brought much of anything. A few tools. His long-range transmitter. Iron Man. A few pieces of clothing.

He could make do with that and he hadn't actually planned on staying n German occupied territory for long enough to need more.

They touched down among the trees and he set Steve down carefully.

The man found his footing easily. Somehow he always did. It hadn't caught his eye as much before Steve had lost his memories. Now it struck him as strange that the man who was acting uncertain and confused because of all the gaps in his knowledge, would move around like he was much surer of himself. It stood out somehow, and he liked it.

Steve eyed the armor. “From the pictures in Marvels I would have thought the armor would be a lot bulkier.”

“It used to be,” Tony said tiredly. He was beginning to feel the strain again. He'd need to rest for a while and soon. “I've had incentive to improve on the design. Happens when your enemies throw something new at you every week.”

“I can imagine.” 

They started walking and Tony let Steve scout ahead a little. It seemed wrong somehow to let the private take the lead. Tony should be the one protecting him and not the other way around. And that was how it had been. But something had changed here. It wasn't only the memory loss. Tony's injury had caused Steve to take charge where before he would just have deferred to the man who knew better. That was a far cry from the man who had deferred to him and kept in the background when they'd first taken him on the mission.

A few meters before him Steve motioned for him to stop. The armor was loud as it walked through the underbrush and apparently Steve thought he had heard something.

Motionlessly they waited, but Tony could hear nothing inside his walls of steel.

“I think it was an animal,” Steve finally concluded. “Do your people know we are coming?”

“Just one person. She'll make arrangements.”

“She?”

“She's one of Fury's assets. A British SOE agent who runs with both the local resistance and the Howling Commandos.”

“The people who work with Captain America?”

“Sometimes. For security reasons we are all separate entities. We're on orders, but acting on our own. Safer when one gets captured. There isn't too much we can give away about the others.”

Steve nodded and led the way. He'd glanced at the map Tony had provided only twice, but from what Tony could tell they were going in the right direction. Would the private ever stop surprising him? He must have a perfect sense of direction, which was the kind of ability Tony could use in a constant companion in his adventures.

He pondered the idea.

He was beginning to like it more and more.

Just... Things would be different when Steve remembered.

“I think I see it,” Steve called. “There's a truck waiting.”

Tony nodded, but wasn't sure the movement translated well with the bulky metal cage surrounding him. 

It would be so good to get out of the armor at this point. 

He took the lead now, as he was the one who was protected in case of a shoot out.

“Stark,” a female voice called.

“Good to see you, Carter,” he greeted as the woman stepped out from behind the safety of a tree and walked up to them.

“Good to see _you_ Iron Man.” She bumped a fist amiable against his chest plate. “Always good having your superior firepower around.”

* * *

After giving them a run down of all the things they knew and the things they did not know yet about the Reinstein situation, Peggy set them up at a farm, where it was easy to hide the armor and he and Steve could hide themselves in an attic that had been equipped with some pieces of simple furniture and a bed. Steve carried the square metal box as if it weighed nothing and Tony, just now feeling the pain of the wound acutely, marveled at his tireless energy.

“Claude and Monique will be away until Sunday. That will give them plausible deniability when you wreck havoc on the SS.”

“Hydra,” Tony said.

“Again?”

“They are as hard to kill as I am,” he grinned and excused himself, feeling better with taking care of disguising the armor himself. 

When he'd finished, his shoulder was hurting so badly, it was like his whole side was on fire. He dragged himself back to the house with slow steps and found Peggy chatting excitedly with Steve, who had put his coat away and was sitting on a crudely crafted wooden chair, the sleeves of his white shirt pulled up to the elbows showing off his arms, as he listened enraptured. 

“And then he threw his shield and Stark ducked out of the way like he knew _exactly_ what Cap had been planning all along and the strongman went down. It was like they worked together every other day.”

“Do they?”

“Not as far as I know. The captain always speaks highly of Stark though and it seems to be a mutual respect.”

“I know Tony... _respects_ Captain America. He also talks about Tony?”

Peggy grinned. “Sometimes I think Captain America is a bit of a Marvels reader himself.”

“Right,” Steve said and smiled. It looked tired. When Tony entered his eyes immediately sought him out.

Peggy only looked at him once. “You need rest, Stark. We all rely on you.”

“I do, yes. I also have work to do. They are not going to move the professor tonight, though.”

“I can't shake the feeling they just wanted you here.”

“Not an unlikely theory.”

“There have been movements and it looks like they are preparing for a prisoner transport. But then nothing. Will you do me the favor of staying here until we have more information?” It sounded like she knew that waiting wasn't his strong point. When he didn't say anything, she looked at Steve. 

“I'll make sure he stays put,” he said and then smiled apologetically at Tony, who did a painful half-shrug and then winced.

“Any word from Cap?” Tony asked, before Peggy left them with the promise to get back to them with more information as soon as possible.

She shook her head. 

Tony nodded, having expected the answer.

“I would have thought he'd check in with you by now.”

“Me? You're Fury's people...”

“Come on, you can't fool me. The two of you have been communicating directly for a while. Cap told me he had a way of reaching you when he needed to, and something tells me the two of you don't always talk when _needed_ , right _shellhead_?” Her eyes were twinkling with mirth.

She used the nickname so far only Cap had used for Iron Man in the field. “Carter, it's not like that!”

“Tony,” Peggy said, “I know you are a smart man, and smart men often think they are smarter than anyone else in the room. Don't you think I know how worried you are because Cap hasn't been checking in? He hasn't checked in with General Philips either.”

That was bad. He wanted to take everything he had and launch a search. But right now... He looked at Steve. He had another thing to set right first.

“It's okay,” Peggy whispered and patted him on the arm. “I know you care for him.”

“Not much point in that,” Tony said softly. “I suppose you must be much more his type than I'll ever be.”

Peggy, who had gotten to know both of them very well over their time spent together on the battlefield across Europe shrugged, “doesn't change the fact that you wan it to be different sometimes.” She patted his good arm again and said: “Get some rest. I'll be back as soon as I can.”

He nodded, stepped back inside, followed Steve silently up the ladder to the attic and didn't even complain when Steve pulled him up the rest of the way and made him sit down on the bed, because there was only that one bed and one chair up here. Again he had been doomed to wait, but at the moment he was at least a bit glad for it. The pain was causing a headache that made it hard to concentrate on much of anything, and he could not afford to be distracted when dealing with an enemy as determined and as dangerous as Hydra.

“Peggy said, the woman who tried to get you yesterday used to be your lover,” Steve said and it was said conversationally. “You like them dangerous.”

“I like them able to think for themselves,” Tony said. “And willing to take the risks of a life like this.” He smiled tightly. He hadn't expected it, but Steve himself was beginning to fit the profile and not because he was very nice to look at, but remembering all the reasons of why he had actually loved Gia was an unwelcome memory right now. He focused on Steve instead. “You seem to be cut out for the adventuring life too. I'm beginning to wonder why you hold back so much. With your memories, that is.”

Steve shrugged and seemed to deflate a little. “I wish I knew.”

When Tony sat down and winced, Steve eyes wandered to his shoulder. 

“Let me change your bandages, Tony.”

“I can manage.”

“I'm here, you don't have to.”

He sighed. Even now he just did not want to drop his shirt in front of Steve and let him look at the ugly thing that was his heart and the scar tissue around it, that made it worse. But he was tired and in pain and he knew that he only had so much time to rest up and let it heal and not moving around too much would finally be a bliss.

In the armor it had all been easy. Flying did itself mostly. He had the irrational thought that he should be out there, flying around for an hour to calm himself. It was a ridiculous idea, of course, especially in a war zone, especially with Germans and collaborators on the lookout for airplanes dropping SOE agents at night.

“Am I out of line?” Steve asked.

Tony chuckled, although he wasn't sure there was much humor in it. “It hurts, more than I care to admit. I know I can use a bit of help and then I should force myself to keep still or at least do something that distracts me from this.”

“The wound isn't that bad. It could have been much worse. Bullet could have hit bone, could have got stuck. It went clean through the flesh, pretty much on the surface. You got really lucky.”

“Believe me I know.” He said. “I know you're a soldier, but as far as I know you haven't seen much action and there are so many things you do not know at all right now. Really, how does a Brooklyn boy know all this? Rough childhood?”

Steve harrumphed as he unpacked the bandages from the supply bag. “I wish I knew,” he repeated his words from earlier. “I think I do remember New York, but I have a hard time figuring out if I remember the real city or if it's like a scene from a movie I've seen.”

“You like the movies?”

Steve smiled, when he walked over, crouching down beside where Tony had sat down at the foot of the one bed in the room. “I think so. Can't stop thinking how much like a movie this is. We have a man with amnesia and a famous hero and a man of mystery who seems to have vanished. There is a war on. And you do look the part.”

“The part?”

“You look like you came right out of Hollywood.” Steve blushed a bit.

Suddenly fixated on how tightly the shirt fit over Steve shoulders, and how perfectly it showed up the muscles in his upper arms. He licked his lips. He had never really noticed that before, not like this... like Steve usually dressed in clothing that was a little less well fitted, which was a shame. “You do too you know?”

Steve's hands had just reached for the buttons of his shirt and Tony had been about to push them away, but now they had just both frozen in the moment, Steve's fingers inches away from touching the fabric and Tony staring at the red color in his cheeks. 

“This...,” he said, “this is not...”

“Not a good idea,” Steve finished and his eyes widened slightly, when Tony, pressing his words past a throat that had suddenly gone dry, said at the same time: “...not the right time.”

They kept staring, weren't moving, eyes widening and searching each other.

“I thought you and...”

“You don't really understand what you're getting into right now,” Tony brushed him off.

“I thought you and Captain America and...”

“Nothing between me and Cap. He's the all American hero. Do you think that involves dancing the bohemian dance at night?”

Steve's eyes widened even wider. “But you care for him! It's obvious. You should see your eyes when you talk about him, full of wonder and emotion.” He bit his lips. “And it's none of my business... This really isn't...”

“He's... A real hero,” Tony said. “And I'm worried about him... And...” He was starring at the perfect curve of Steve's lips, noticing the slight unevenness of his upper lips for the first time and wondering. It seemed familiar, so perhaps he had stared at the private too long before all this had happened without being aware of it. “I don't want you to do something you'll regret. We don't even know if you have a steady at home, or back at camp... You don't know, Steve.”

Steve frowned and let himself fall back on his haunches, sitting there on the slightly dusty floor looking distressed. “There's so much I don't know. You're right.” He looked a little pale, worried. Then he whispered brokenly: “What if I'm like her?”

“Her?” Tony had no idea what he was talking about. 

“Gialetta Nefaria,” he whispered, “the woman you met in _Only Sound in the Dark_ and who tried to have you kidnapped just hours ago.”

“You're a quick reader, huh?” 

Steve smiled, lines of exhaustion turning his expression sad. “Had trouble sleeping that first night. And after.”

“We should both get some rest then. We might need it. I still have to figure out what happened to you and the rest of this smells off another Hydra trap.”

“What if I am?”

“A dangerous woman?”

“A spy?”

The possibility hadn't even occurred to him. “Why would you think that?”

“I...” Steve paused. “I really don't know. Things don't add up. I feel like... I feel like there are some memories of New York, but like I was a different person then. I read that service record and there is so much that seems strange, things that are left out. I don't feel like the person described there.”

“You shouldn't take any of that to heart!”

“What if I should?”

“You are so much better! Look at you going through all this and working at peak efficiency. You saved me, Steve!”

“I know! So why was I hiding what I can do? Am I a coward? Then why did I volunteer? Why did I come on this mission with you? Why does the general you keep talking about know more about me? Why am hiding? _What_ am I hiding?” He curled over forward, hid his face in one hand. “Can you explain it?”

Tony reached out, let his fingers trace through Steve's hair. He was trying to calm him, elevate some of his fears, help him get rid of the tension in his shoulders. “Yes,” Tony said. “You have a blank slate. Everyone has memories and experiences that shape how they behave around other people. At the moment you don't.”

“That's not... That doesn't explain...”

“Steve,” Tony said. “You are a good person. If you can't believe it right now, take for granted that I do.”

“You believed her. You loved her.”

He looked up at the ceiling to not look at Steve. “I also always knew that she was a rouge.” It was true, and at the same time it felt like a lie. “Things get complicated sometimes. You remember knowing me for two days, Steve. But I've known you for a little longer than that and if Cap trust you, if Fury trusts you who is the most paranoid bastard I know, you're good.”

Steve looked still strained.

“Look,” Tony said, “let's get out of here and memory or not I'll take you to the movies. Promise.”

Apparently that helped. Steve nodded. “I'm sorry.” He cleared his throat and then he sat up and pointed at Tony's shoulder. “I'll hold you to that promise, Tony.”

He wondered if he'd go back to being Mr. Stark when Steve remembered. 

And then soft strong hands where on his shirt and Tony winced. “There's something...”

Steve was already tucking the shirt free and froze, blinked at finding metal and glass. 

“I should have warned you.”

“What...” Steve extended a hand to touch the smooth surface. 

“It's my heart. It's a long story. One that I try not to tell. Not so Hollywood now, huh?”

“It keeps you alive?”

“Kept me going for years. Powers the Iron Man suit, too.”

“You power it with you heart??”

“I really don't want to explain. I know it's not nice to look at,” he said apologetically.

But Steve's fingers had dropped the bandages and he was carefully tracing scars and then gliding his fingers along the rim of glass and metal tubes. “How long?”

“Longer than I care to think about,” Tony said. “It's also mostly a secret.” Goosebumps rose on his arms. Steve was still tracing patterns along his skin, completely transfixed by the mechanical heart. He expected disgust. He got that occasionally.

“It keeps you alive? How did you...?”

“I had help, but the technology powering it is mine and the power source is... a lot older than the heart.”

“Oh,” Steve said and looked up. There was no disgust there. “You must be the stupidest and bravest man I know. Even without memory I'm sure of it.”

They were close, so damn, dangerously close and Steve's fingers were on his skin, touching him reverently and soft, and he wasn't used to that kind of kindness. Steve's blue eyes were brimming with wonder and awe and something much easier and safer than that and Tony knew he should push him away and break the moment, but then Steve bent forward and their lips touched and it was like the burning electricity of a recharge, just better, just more powerful. And Steve kneeling now half between his legs, perfectly muscled arms raised to pull Tony's face down, didn't waste time. He deepened the kiss, just as Tony gasped ins surprise.

All pans of waiting and putting this off, of being responsible and kind and – well of Captain America – fled his mind as fast as lightning and made way for hot desire. This attractive brave man wanted him despite the ugliness, despite the insecurity. He let Steve kiss him, wet and messy, so sexy, allowed it to go right to his loins and then grasped for the man's shoulders, whining slightly when he moved his shoulder too fast. 

“God,” Steve gasped and even that stoked Tony's desire, “god, Tony.”

But before Tony could get his wits about him they were kissing again, desperate, like both of them needed the reassurance that they weren't alone in this place. He wasn't sure if Steve's hands grabbed for his belt first or if he was tucking at Steve's shirt before that, but suddenly, his tongue still battling with Steve's, luring his to explore his mouth, he was lifted up with surprising strength and fell back onto the bed with Steve between his legs. This time he groaned audibly and in pain. 

“Sorry,” Steve whispered against his ear, trailing kisses along his throat, “sorry, sorry, sorry. We shouldn't... We will aggravate the wound.”

But he wanted and the throbbing pain didn't get a say in this, not now, not ever, not when Steve's fingers were tracing the shape of the mechanical heart again with love and wonder and desire in his eyes. A kiss was placed on metal and Tony was gone, grabbed Steve by the hair to pull him up again to press their mouths together. He could feel the hardness of the body and the rock hard evidence of desire against his crotch.

Who cared what happened tomorrow? 

Tonight they could have this and he started rocking against Steve's leg making his own desperate desire known, as their bodies took over and the world, the war, the danger, even the pain fell away, in a tangle of limbs and a beautiful soldiers hot mouth tracing a wet line with his tongue along the rim of his heart and as Tony pushed him, fingers tangle in his hair, down, down, down.

* * *

He woke up in still warm sheets, his wound reminding him that he shouldn't move on his bad side.

“Are you awake?” Steve asked. He was already dressed and sitting on the floor in between all his unpacked possessions.

“For a moment I thought I had dreamed you.”

Steve grinned. “That's my line,” he said. There was none of the lingering insecurity there now. Apparently the fact that Tony was still naked in bed, where he had let him lick his cock and had brought each other to completion with their hands, had given Steve something else to hold on to. Tony hoped this hadn't been a mistake, but it was hard to claim that he'd been taking advantage of Steve who had practically manhandled him, held him still so he could enjoy the sounds he could draw from Tony with his mouth. If Tony were less banged up he'd shown him even better ways to enjoy each other. But right now, apart from the pain, he felt pretty fantastic.

He slipped out of bed, gathered his clothes and was quietly aware of Steve's eyes following his every movement.

“How is the shoulder?”

“It hurts and it itches,” he complained. “Agent Carter did not turn up yet?”

Steve shook his head.

“What is it you're doing?”

“I had hoped to find the key to the lock on that crate you say belongs to me.”

“Good luck then,” Tony said and started to unpack his own tools and the device he wanted to have a better look at. The nagging voice at the back of his mind said they should be moving, before Hydra got to make the first move. But then he also wanted Steve to remember. Now more than ever.

He took the device apart bit by bit, careful to no trigger anything. The power source was simple but efficient and with a pang he recognized his father's work, clear as day as if the man had signed it himself. It gave him pause.

His father was dead. _Zemo_ was dead and Hydra had need of a new scientific genius. Tony fit the bill nicely, but others did too. Whoever had built this had worked of blueprints left by the last Zemo, blueprints Tony had seen among the papers of his father.

“Memory storage,” he said out loud. It had been a passing fancy, one of the things he'd started to work on after one of his many science-ficiton loving soldier friends, who had left Tony with a vast library of literature and a love for outrageous stories that had carried over into adulthood, had dared him to recreate a device out of one fantasy story or another. “Might have been George,” Tony mumbled.

“Tony?”

He looked up to see Steve was watching him.

“I think I know what this is,” he said. “It's... It's something my father built. Tried to built. It was a joke, really.”

“A joke?”

“My father was an engineer, but also a soldier. A friend got him to explore the idea of storing memories so they could be sent back to families at home. It was a blueprint that never really went anywhere.”

He carefully took apart the sphere and frowned. There were cables and advanced circuitry and in the middle of it a longish green crystal. He had seen that before. It was the kind of crystal he had seen one upon a time in the lost city of Atilan. 

Gia.

As far as he knew his had been the only expedition to ever actually reach the city and they'd never made any of the actual details public, had never given tangible hint on how to reach the city in the Tony Stark Adventures, but Gia had had access to the vault at one time, _after_ Tony had been there.

He wanted to curse.

“I had not expected to get somewhere with this without better equipment,” he announced to Steve, “and I can't do much with it right now. Good news is we can reverse this and I already have an idea how.”

Steve stepped up to him, looking hopeful.

“I would have to run some tests, but I know how these crystals work. In a very general sense they should have recorded your memories and after my little misadventure in retrieving this my thinking now is that your memories are still there, but blocked.” He thought about how the driver had tried to make him believe his wife was waiting for him in the car. “They would want my knowledge to dissect, so they make a copy. But they also want my brain intact, so it's not supposed to permanently damage.”

“I'm not sure it would be too bad remembering nothing but this.”

Tony grinned at him. “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

He worked for an hour on making notes and testing the crystals reaction to changed settings, but he had no real way of knowing what it would do without testing it on someone. 

“You can try it on me,” Steve offered. 

“I'm not even sure it will be necessary. I know my father's initial design. I can probably build a new apparatus that reverses this.”

“I have no idea about any of this, but I trust you.”

He was not going to disappoint this trust.

* * *

The only message that reached them that night was a warning.

Peggy had made contact with some resistance group in the area and word was out that Tony Stark was close-by. SS special forces had arrived to search for him and Professor Reinstein was to be moved to a safer location.

“We can't stay here. We can't play their game on their terms.”

“Peggy told us to stay put.”

“She also knows I don't really take orders.” He side-eyed Steve, waiting for an indication what he wanted to do.

“We've already learned that I don't really do either,” he said. “And whatever you're planning to do, I can't let you do it alone. Not like this.” He nodded at Tony's shoulder.

“I could...” his eyes sought out the transmitter.

Steve noticed and nodded, then swallowed visibly. “Have you told him?” he asked.

“That we need help? Yes, a couple of times now...”

“That you think of him all the time?”

His eyes widened and then he searched Steve's face for a trace of jealousy or anger or the emotions that meant he would have drama on his hands, but Steve was calm and not angry at all. Perhaps there was a hint of regret in his eyes. “Steve, I... We...”

“It's alright, Tony. I knew before I kissed you. You knew I knew.”

“That is not. You are amazing, you know that? And Cap, well he doesn't know. I've never told him and I don't think I ever will.” After a pause he asked: “Is it really that obvious?” Peggy had implied the same thing, but she knew Tony and his ways.

Steve shrugged. “I'm looking at the world with fresh eyes. It's obvious to me. I won't hold you... to... Well, you should tell him. Only a man out of his wits would not want to be with you.”

 _Or a man who simply didn't look at other men,_ Tony thought.

“Perhaps I will,” he conceded. “I'm still going to take you to see that movie. I want to get to know you better when all this is over.”

“I'm not out of my wits. I'm not going to refuse you.” He grinned, but there was a quiet understanding in the way he said it. “I hope we'll be friends. After all this.”

“We are friends, Steve. More than friends, maybe.”

They nodded, having come to an understanding. They took out a map and marked down all they could gather from the little information they had. It was easy enough to decide where they could hit and have the best chance of saveing Reinstein. Pepper and Rhodey had still not checked in again. It was likely that they too had come under fire when they'd tried to get out of Paris.

One final time, before they were going to move out, Tony tried to reach Cap. “Come in please, Cap,” Tony said. “I'm going to be in a lot of trouble soon and I'd like to know if you're close by.”

There was no answer.

“Can you hear that?” Steve was looking around the room. His eyes had narrowed and he he was keeping still.

Tony could only hear the static of the open connection. He put the transmitter down and listened. He could hear a soft beeping noise. Extremely faint and muffled.

“What is that?” Steve asked. “Bomb?”

“If they had gotten here before us, they would not be so sloppy to have the exploding device make a noise before the big boom. No.”

The noise was indeed very faint. And he'd heard it before.

“It's another transmitter,” he said, his voice low. Just now things were beginning to make sense. He turned to Steve, took in the broad line of shoulders, his muscled arms, the warm blue eyes, thought about the different smiles he'd seen on two different faces and what Steve's voice had sounded like when it had gone deep and low when he'd come apart under Tony's hands, when he'd been without defenses and without knowledge of what his secrets were.

“You only brought the one,” Steve said, confused.

“You still haven't found that key.”

Steve shook his head. 

“I think it is time to open that padlock, Steve.”

“Why now?”

“Don't you hear it? Don't you realize where it's coming from?”

Steve held still and listened gain, looked around. His eyes dropped to the crate. 

“Why is it...?

“You know Steve you weren't wrong about keeping secrets. But you are not a German spy and certainly not a collaborator.”

Incredulous, Steve gaped at him. “What are you saying? I don't follow.” 

“There are a handful of people who have long range transmitters I've built and only one of those people has not answered any of my calls pretty much since you joined us on this mission.”

“You're not serious,” Steve whispered and his voice was breaking.

“I'm dead serious here, sweetheart.” He had already opened his shirt and Steve's mouth fell open when he saw Tony pull the skeleton like hand repulsor set from a bag and slowly put it on, watched him connect power lines with his heart.

“You really use your _heart_ to power...?”

“Shush,” Tony said. “You're not in a position to berate me right now.”

“I'm not Captain America!” Steve nearly shouted. “I'm not a hero!”

Tony looked at him critically, the repulsor powering up as it finally received energy. “Let's find out then.”

“What are you...?”

“We're blasting this wide open.” He pointed at the padlock, waited for Steve to contradict or stop him, but he only watched him flabbergasted and as confused as on the first day after losing his memories. 

He aimed and the padlock flew across the room. He gestured for Steve to go and open the box he'd been carrying around.

When a flash of color became visible, Tony wasn't surprised at all, but Steve gasped.

“This... Is this...?”

The perfect round shape of Captain America's shield lay in the center of the crate and it explained the exact square dimensions of the thing. It had been made to carry the shield.

“Pick it up,” Tony said, watched Steve's mouth open and close, before he went down on his haunches and carefully picked it up.

Without knowing his hands knew exactly how to handle it and he looked up defiantly at Tony over the brim of the iconic shield. How had he not seen this all this time?

“This is ridiculous. I probably was keeping it for him, for when...”

“Look inside,” Tony said. “Everything makes sense.”

Neatly folded and strapped in under the shield the uniform, boots and mask had been waiting all this time. Tony's transmitter was faintly beeping, indicating a message, from a side pocket.

“Put it on, come on,” he urged. “We do have a mission anyway.”

“No,” Steve said. “This doesn't belong to me.”

“Obviously it does. Come on. Try it on. If it fits you we'll know.”

“You make it sound like fairy tale! I'm not Cinderella and I'm certainly no hero.”

“Yes, you are. Put it on.”

“I''m not perfect or...” 

“Being a hero is not about being perfect, Steve. Think about it. You know that. Why are you doubting yourself? Why are you doubting this? Don't you want it?”

He stared at Tony like he couldn't even parse the question, then he put the shield on the floor and said, voice rising: “Alright! I'll put it on and then you will see, that this is a horrible misunderstanding!”

He let himself fall back, sat on the floor to pull his boots off, then shucked out of his shirt, keeping only the under shirt as he pulled the reinforced chainmail shirt from the crate. It fit like a glove. So did the pants and then boots. 

Steve moved efficiently. His eyes were flashing with anger as he put on every item of the uniform and he didn't seem to realize that his fingers knew exactly where all the clasps where, how to open and close them, how to put on the boots, how to close straps and pockets. He must have dressed like this a hundred times in the heat of battle. It was perhaps the sexiest thing Tony had ever seen. Finally the mask came on and with the stubborn set of the jaw, Captain America stood before him, putting on gloves that fit perfectly. 

“See!” Steve growled and it sounded exactly right for the mask, “I'm not Captain America!”

“Yes,” Tony said and suddenly his own throat was dry. He had come to the right conclusion minutes before, but now with Cap actually standing there, leaving no doubt in his mind with the way his voice was carrying through the room, the reality of this was sinking in. “Yes, yes, you are.” Impulsively he stepped forward and hugged Steve who stood there frozen. “I'm glad you're alive.”

“I'm _not_ Captain America.”

“Look in the mirror,” Tony suggested. There was only a very small one and he watched Steve look at himself from all the possible angles. Doubt and understanding and then confusion chased each other and Tony could read it all in the line of his mouth, the set of his jaw and the hints of flashes in his eyes.

Finally he deflated, sat on the edge of the bed, tense. “How can this be?”

“You have amnesia, Steve. We'll figure it out.”

“You don't understand. How can I be Captain America? You talk about him like he is so great and I'm just... I just know I'm the kind of person who doesn't.... who people don't look at and don't listen to!”

“Steve? You have _amnesia_. And please, look at yourself. People would stand in line to look at you, okay.”

“In this uniform, you mean.”

“ _Without_ the uniform.” And he meant that very literally. “Come on! You are not someone who hides from things and least of all the truth.”

Shaken.

That was the best word to describe how Captain America looked right now.

“Alright,” he said. “Alright, alright. I'm Captain America. I'm still not of any more use to you now than I was before.”

“Take up the shield.”

“Tony...”

“Cap, please, we can have a wonderful argument another time, when I'm less in pain and you're back on top of things. It will be fun. But right now, just listen to me. Take up your shield!”

Steve got up, slowly walked to where he had left the shield on the floor and picked it up. 

“Aim,” Tony ordered.

“What?”

“Aim it at something and throw.”

Steve looked at him like he had lost his mind.

“Throw, Steve.”

“That seems like a terrible idea,” he said and meant the confined space. Tony wanted to test a theory through and he was ready to stop the shield with the hand repulsor if he had to. He couldn't believe he would have too.

Steve aimed at one of the roof beams, hesitated, steeled himself, his jaw setting in that stubborn way of his, and he threw, hard. The shield careened to the left, hit another beam, swished over their heads to hit another and landed back in Steve's hand, comfortably and safe.

“How did I know it would do that?”

“Your body remembers. The memories are still there.”

Steve stared at the shield and Tony said nothing, wanting to give him a moment to let all of this sink in. Then he watched as Steve fastened the shield to his back as if he wanted to test something.

“I know how this works. Like instinct.”

“Trust your instincts. We don't have much time.”

Suddenly Steve was in his space. He hadn't even seen him move. A gloved hand settled on his jaw and and he was kissed hard. Not once yesterday, even when Steve had taken charge had he been like this: demanding and cocky. That was more Tony's deal.

He liked it though, melted into it and kissed back.

When Steve pulled away: “I'm good with trusting my instincts.”

Tony grinned, feeling the saliva gleaming on his own lips. “Good. Ready to slay Hydra?”

“I only have a shield and no sword.”

Casting his eyes towards the dent the shield had left in the wooden beam, Tony said: “You won't need one. I've seen you work with that shield.”

* * *

Once they made up their minds, scouting out where Reinstein was held, was easy. Hydra was trying to draw out Tony, so they weren't really hiding their movements.

Iron Man let himself fall out of the sky and drew the fire. Having split up their team, Hydra did not expect him to be working with someone.

Captain America had an easy enough time to grab the scientist and make a run for it in a stolen vehicle.

* * *

Fury sent them a plane for extraction as soon as Steve requested it. Within the hour they were up in the air and on their way to New York.

Reisntein looked pale and tired, but he was staring at Captain America like he was taken aback. “Steven?”

“I'm sorry,” Cap said, “I have trouble remembering anything right now. Do I know you?”

“Know me?” the man squeaked. 

Steve was helping Tony out of the armor, trying to make sure he was alright. It was quite amusing. 

“You're Dr. Erskine,” Tony said, when he was finally able to climb out of the suit. “You're also Reinstein?”

The old man looked pale and worried. “Haven't been him for a long time. I was taken right out of New York. Hydra really has their arms everywhere. Steven,” he said and turned to Captain America, “what happened to you?”

Steve looked at Tony silently asking for some guidance here.

“That,” Tony said, “is a story weird enough to get its own Marvels issue.”

* * *

They attempted to reverse the block on Steve's memories in the safety of secret military facility outside of New York. With the help of Jarvis Tony had only needed a day to reverse engineer the Hydra device. Over the years Jarvis had cataloged all the bits and pieces of inventions and notes left by Howard Stark and they had been able to heavily draw from his notes.

Now it was time. Steve had kissed him in the privacy of the Brooklyn apartment he'd been provided with. “No need to be nervous, I know what I'm doing,” Tony had reassured him. “I just hope you can forgive me when you remember. I can't imagine that was how you wanted me to find out your secret identity. If you wanted me to find out at all.”

“Feeling anything?” Tony asked now. 

Steve looked up. “I remember everything. My entire life.”

“Hello there, Captain America.” Tony tried to alleviate some of the tension by jokingly saluting.

“I remember it all.”

Tony swallowed nervously. This was where he would find out what his relationship with Captain America _and_ Steve Rogers would be like from here on out. “That was what we were going for. I hope now you remember that you're not at all the kind of person people overlook.”

“Not anymore,” Steve said gravely and a muscle in his cheek moved like he was restraining a wince. “Not anymore.”

Tony blinked. “Sounds like there is a story there. I hope one day I'll hear all about it.”

And that was when Steve finally looked up. “I won't ship out again till the end of the week until they are sure I'm ready. I remember you promising me a movie. We could have dinner after and... talk. I do know now that there is now fellow or girl waiting or me, if you were wondering. But there is this one man I quite like. He's like my hero, although he might be the braves idiot I know. Powering armors with his own heart, can you believe it.”

A big weight lifted from his shoulders as he smiled softly at Steve, who was also studying him carefully like he was seeing him for the first time. “I'd like that.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

They told nobody where they were going, sneaked out like naughty children. It was thrilling. Just as thrilling as Steve squeezing his hand in the darkness of the theater as the movie started.

“You won't get rid of me again,” he whispered.

Remembering how worried he'd been about Captain America, how responsible he'd felt for what had happened to Steve Rogers, he whispered back: “It will be hard to live with the annoyance,” and grinned. 

_Tony Stark and the Mystery of the Lost Captain_ , he thought amused. Too bad Pepper would never get to write that story. Few stories ended with so much promise for an interesting sequel.

He squeezed Steve's hand back and sat like that, enjoying the moment of relative safety and quiet.

Knowing them, it wouldn't last long.

But that was exactly how Tony liked it.

And one thing was certain: Steve Rogers wouldn't end up being just another side character in a Tony Stark adventure. If Tony had anything to say about it, he was going to be a protagonist, a permanent addition for years to come.


End file.
